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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25045087">A Worthy Father</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crowlows19/pseuds/Crowlows19'>Crowlows19</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Batman - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Bad Parent Jack Drake, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Fluff, Tim Drake Is Too Smart, Tim Drake Needs a Hug, Tim Drake-centric</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 10:07:31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,749</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25045087</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crowlows19/pseuds/Crowlows19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack Drake forces his son to give up being Robin. He could never have predicted the consequences of parenting a Robin-less Tim Drake. He may never sleep again and Bruce Wayne certainly has no sympathy for him.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jack Drake &amp; Tim Drake, Tim Drake &amp; Bruce Wayne</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1436</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>A Labyrinth of Fics, Avidreaders Batman completed faves</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Worthy Father</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tim didn't want to talk about it. </p><p>They drove all the way home in silence and the most Tim could do was send a text to Conner saying something had come up, he wouldn't be at Titans Tower next weekend. </p><p>"I can't believe you," Jack was saying.</p><p>"I don't want to talk about it," Tim replied, pointedly looking out the car window.</p><p>"You lied to me," Jack said and Tim shrugged. It was an acknowledgment that he had heard Jack and a complete dismissal of Jack's point of view on the matter. Jack slammed his hand on the steering wheel, the explosion of anger making Tim jump in surprise. </p><p>"What the fuck, Tim?" he shouted. "How did this even happen? How did you get recruited to become a fucking Robin of all things?"</p><p>"He didn't recruit me," Tim said, unable to hide the fact that he was thoroughly offended by that statement. He was too smart to be recruited; Bruce hadn't done a thing that Tim had forced him to. "I took the armor from the cave, I told him that this was what I was going to do, and I made him train me."</p><p>"Why would you even want to do such a thing?" Jack asked, thoroughly baffled. </p><p>Tim didn't answer him, just shaking his head and turning back towards the window. It wasn't any of Jack's business what had happened to the Robin before him. It wasn't Jack's business that Tim had found Batman in such a state that he'd crossed the country to beg Nightwing to come home and help. And it wasn't Jack's business that when Nightwing and Batman failed to do more than argue with each other, it had been Tim who'd made the decision and dragged the both of them along, something that would define his relationship pattern with both of them for years to come. </p><p>He was always tricking Bruce into doing what he wanted and Bruce was always pretending to be grumpy about it. He never was though. Not truly. </p><p>"How did you manage to keep this a secret?" Jack asked. Tim sighed heavily. </p><p>"Well, while you and mom were on your global tour for fourteen months, I was training to be Robin," Tim said, proud of himself for sounding only a little bit bitter. "It wasn't hard. I waited for the housekeeper to finish her shift at five, then I walked out the front door. Although, most of the time I just stayed at Wayne Manor and then went back when I knew you guys were coming back into town."</p><p>"The house staff was supposed to watch you," Jack said, stiffly. </p><p>"I sent them away," Tim said. "And hired temps for when you and mom were there. You never even noticed that the maids were always different or that the cook never made the same meal twice. You weren't there long enough to see the help as anything but part of the background."</p><p>"But Mrs. Mac," Jack started. </p><p>"Was a drunk," Tim finished. "I let her use my credit card to buy all her alcohol and she kept her mouth shut."</p><p>"I sent emails," Jack said, referring to the instructions he would periodically send regarding the mansion and his son. </p><p>"They came to me," Tim said. "You were talking to me. You should have made phone calls instead. I probably wouldn't have been able to fake those. That was a training that happened much later on."</p><p>Jack looked utterly disturbed as they pulled up in front of the house. He turned off the car and they sat in silence, listening to the engine click as it cooled. </p><p>"You lied to me," Jack said, seemingly incapable of moving past that one point. Tim didn't have much sympathy for him; he didn't feel much of anything at the moment. </p><p>"And I would have gotten away with it too. If you hadn't suddenly decided to notice I exist," he said, getting out of the car and slamming the door shut behind him. It took Jack another ten minutes before he was capable of walking up the front steps, following his son into the house. </p><p>When he finally closed and locked the front door, Tim had already locked himself away in his room. </p><p>000000</p><p>The one thing Tim truly enjoyed about no longer having to hide his nighttime identity was that he could finally be him, no matter what room in the house he was in. While Jack was enjoying a cup of coffee and reading the newspaper, he walked in, hair sticking up and no shirt on. Jack stared at his scars, his face pale. </p><p>Tim always wore a shirt when forced to be in this house. Now, he could be as lazy and unkempt as he pleased. </p><p>"Save me that paper when you're done," he said, helping himself to his own cup of coffee and a piece of leftover bacon. Dana had made breakfast and already left the house. She was working again, supporting Jack as he seemed to fit to do nothing but wallow in his loss of company and fortune. </p><p>"Why?" he asked.</p><p>"Oh, you know," Tim said, idly. "Since I can't do the Robin thing anymore I figured I'd get back into an old hobby. I started it when I was in kindergarten and sort of dropped it a couple of years ago because I got too busy with Young Justice or the Titans or pulling Dick out of whatever fire he was in. The usual."</p><p>"Well," Jack said, not sure what to say to all that. "I think it's great you want to pick up an old hobby. What is it?"</p><p>"Oh, I've been trying to solve the Gotham Village murders," Tim said, sipping his coffee. "You know, that famous serial killer case from the seventies? There's a big editorial in today's paper about the case and Twitter is going nuts. They think we finally have new evidence to work with thanks to all of the police leaks lately. Word is, the police think the guy is still alive, which means he can still be captured."</p><p>He left the kitchen before Jack's brain could re-start itself. </p><p>000000</p><p>Jack didn't quite understand Tim. </p><p>Had he always been an armchair detective? How had they not known? Surely Tim would have said something? He was, after all, the type to babble about the things he was most excited about. Like now for instance, as he babbled to Jack about the Gotham Village serial killer with all the enthusiasm of a hyperactive squirrel, not noticing that Jack really didn't want to talk about this anymore. </p><p>"There are five canonical victims," Tim was saying. "Tracy Heart, Fiona Campbell, Marcia Fuller, Tara Yates, and Melinda O'Connor. All of them were on the bohemian scene back in the day, all of them waitresses and all of them lived alone and were killed in their homes while they slept. What that tells us is that the killer most likely picked them out while visiting their restaurants. Now, back then the Gotham Village was small, half a dozen city blocks at most, and all five waitresses worked in the same two restaurants. At least three of them knew each other."</p><p>Tim was showing him his summary of the case on his laptop. There was a PowerPoint. Why was there a PowerPoint? And why did it have three hundred and eighty-two slides? They were only on slide twenty-two and already Tim had been talking for an hour. Was he planning on stopping? </p><p>They were going to be here all night. Dana looked at him, wide-eyed and highly concerned. She then abandoned him after another half hour, saying she had work in the morning and was going to bed. Jack tried not to whimper as she left. </p><p>000000</p><p>At around two in the morning, Jack finally said enough. </p><p>"Tim," he begged. "Please let me go to bed."</p><p>"But I haven't broken down the possible escapes routes!" Tim exclaimed, scandalized. "There's only twenty-six combinations that he could have taken when he left Melinda's apartment and then was spotted six blocks south of the scene."</p><p>"Why does it matter?" Jack almost whined. They still had another one hundred and fifty slides to go. He was dying; he was actually dying. </p><p>"Because it tells us how skilled he was!" Tim replied. "Some of these routes are more obvious than others, like if he stuck to the sidewalks. And others would have required knowledge of the neighborhood. If he was living in the neighborhood, that reduces the pool of potential suspects significantly!"</p><p>"How would you possibly even be able to figure out which theoretical route he took without asking him?" Jack asked, hoping if he stumped the boy, he could go to bed. He'd already threatened to ground him but Tim had looked at him as if that was the most amusing thing he'd ever said and kept on talking. </p><p>"I'm so happy you asked," Tim said and clicked to the next slide. "Using timely maps of the area and the FBI's most recent profile of the killer, I've calculated the routes that have the highest probability of being the ones he took. You'll see them highlighted in green."</p><p>And then the boy just kept on talking. </p><p>000000</p><p>It was five in the morning. They'd been awake all night and while Jack felt as if a piece of his soul had died, Tim looked more energized than ever. But he had done it. Jack had finally made it to slide three hundred and eighty-two where Tim made his final recommendation of who he thought the killer was. </p><p>"Marcus Seaworth!" he exclaimed excitedly. "Manager of the restaurant that victims 2, 3, and 5 worked at and a frequent guest of the restaurant that victims 1 and 4 worked at. He was looked at by police during the early portion of the investigation but was later dropped as a suspect when the police decided to target a black man for the crime instead. That man was later proven innocent after his alibi checked out. He was a lawyer and had been arguing his case in front of a courtroom of witnesses when victim 5 was killed. He later sued the Gotham City Police Department and won. Today he lives in Metropolis with his lovely wife and their three cats. One of whom goes by the name of Pookie."</p><p>"But what about Seaworth? What's he doing?" Jack asked, his delirium masking itself as interest. </p><p>"Seaworth was picked up for a domestic abuse charge in the early nineties and spent four months at Blackgate where he fell into organized crime. He is now employed by the Falcone crime family managing all of the restaurants that they use to launder drug money and makes more money than he knows what to do with. He's been married six times, has nine children, two mistresses, and so far has not killed again. At least, not as a serial killer. He's probably done some violence for the Falcones. Everyone has to eventually."</p><p>"Do you make Bruce Wayne sit through these kinds of PowerPoints?" Jack asked. He couldn't quite wrap his mind around the image of his son lecturing Batman all night. </p><p>"Yes, of course," Tim said. "Although, I summarized it for you. He would have gotten the full details."</p><p>"This was a summary?" Jack screeched. </p><p>It was at that moment that Jack, physically in pain from his all-nighter, realized that Tim did not understand the concept of brevity. </p><p>"Yeah," Tim sighed, looking at his computer sadly. "I cut out nearly all of the good analytics and a bunch of the deeper crime scene evidence. It would have been such a good presentation too."</p><p>"So, did you solve it?" Jack asked. "Could you, like, turn that in to the police, and Seaworth would get arrested?"</p><p>"No," Tim said, looking at him oddly. Jack realized he'd probably said something stupid. "I'll send what I have to Bruce and he'll go looking for evidence to back it all up. Then we take it to Jim Gordon who gets a warrant and arrests Seaworth. But that could take months."</p><p>"Oh," Jack said, thinking that conclusion was incredibly anti-climactic.</p><p>"It wasn't always flying off rooftops and car chases," Tim said. "At least, not for me. The other Robins liked the action a lot more than I did. I like this stuff. I'm good at this stuff. I always have been. Knowing how to put the pieces together was what convinced Bruce that I was worth a shot in the first place. I built a whole reputation on things like this."</p><p>Tim had never been that honest with Jack before. He wondered if this was what they meant when they said you should talk to your kids. Jack had always assumed that meant letting Tim know what he was supposed to be doing, not finding out what he was actually good at. It had never crossed Jack's mind that Tim would have a skillset like this. And for it to come so naturally was mind-boggling. </p><p>"What kind of reputation?" Jack asked, curious. "And with whom?"</p><p>"The Justice League mostly," Tim said and Jack's tired mind ground to a halt yet again. "They like to work with me because I'm not as cranky as Batman. They had to stop for a while when he found out though. Apparently, he yelled at Green Arrow and Flash for thirty minutes. Nightwing said it was hysterical."</p><p>Jack couldn't even think of a follow up to that statement so he backtracked a little.</p><p>"How long would this have been if you were talking to Bruce?" he asked. </p><p>"Oh, his version is only nine hundred and seventy-two slides long," Tim replied easily as if that was not a mind-boggling number. As if this entire situation wasn't the most ridiculous thing any human being had ever been in. Jack felt as if he might actually be losing his mind. And Tim was still talking. "He asked me to make sure they were all under a thousand slides. Apparently, he has a day job. The loser."</p><p>Had Tim actually forgotten that Bruce Wayne owned and operated one the largest, most influential companies in the world? </p><p>"I'm going to bed," he said, leaving his son in the kitchen, humming happily to himself. Well, at least one of them was enjoying a post-Robin era.</p><p>000000</p><p>Jack was miserable. </p><p>After the Gotham Village serial killer, Tim had moved on to the disappearance of Natalie Carr. Jack had actually known about this one. It was only six years old and had been on the news for years. He'd watched the case as he lay in the hospital recovering from his various medical treatments. There had been an update then. They'd finally found a body.</p><p>Natalie was a sixteen-year-old girl who had been walking five steps ahead of her friends as they went to a movie. She had turned the corner onto Martha Wayne Memorial Boulevard and in the three seconds her friends didn't have eyes on her, she disappeared. The utter mystery shrouding that case had been what made it such a huge story. </p><p>Tim was convinced it was the ex-boyfriend, who had known that Natalie was going to the movies, seen she was walking ahead of her friends as he followed her, and took a very brazen opportunity to snatch her in full view. He'd gotten very lucky, Tim had said. But sometimes a little luck was all you needed. </p><p>That presentation had been two-hundred and sixty-nine slides long.</p><p>Then came an unsolved case that involved a mob massacre in the sixties where six Falcone gangsters were shot to death outside a bar in the Bowery. Tim pegged that case as being the work of an up and coming gang member who had hoped to frame the Maronis and start a gang war. His plan, according to Tim, had been to swoop down on the chaos and be the sole victor, building a new empire on the ashes of two old ones. </p><p>Tim said the man's bank statements proved it. Apparently, he'd been moving large sums of cash around as he invested in the necessary weaponry. But the Falcones weren't stupid. They didn't take the bait and instead had quietly disposed of the actual killer, letting the rest of the world think the crime was both unsolved and unavenged. Apparently, this let the leader at the time dangle a carrot where and when he needed it. He'd managed to use the murders as a tool instead of a lesson. Tim said the body of the real killer was in Slaughter Swamp out in Sommerset. </p><p>That presentation had been four-hundred and two slides.</p><p>And then there was Vincent Trent a man who murdered his wife and got away with it. One-hundred and sixty-six slides.</p><p>Rachel Smith, a cheerleader who poisoned her cheerleading coach in response to being kicked off the squad. Two-hundred and fourteen slides.</p><p>Michelle Donnelley, a mother who murdered her third husband when she found out he'd tried to molest her sixteen-year-old son and then stuffed his body behind the drywall in her now finished basement. Two-hundred and ninety-three slides.</p><p>Louis Pope, a man who boarded a plane, de-boarded abruptly, left all his possessions at the gate, fled the airport, and was never seen again. Three-hundred and forty-seven slides. </p><p>Tim solved fifteen different crimes in the two months since he'd given up being Robin. Jack was getting less sleep than he ever had before in his life and Dana was spending as much time as she could out of the house lest she get roped into being an audience member for Tim's renewed hobby. </p><p>After Tim excitedly told him one morning about the big serial killer case he was close to finishing, Jack finally broke. He called Bruce Wayne and practically begged for help.</p><p>000000</p><p>"I really don't know what you want me to do," Bruce said, looking distinctly uncomfortable as he stood in the front entryway of Jack's house. He was dressed casually in designer jeans, a plain gray shirt, and a leather jacket. He was wearing motorcycle boots and had even driven there on a motorcycle, leaving it parked out front. Jack wasn't sure what to do with this version of Bruce Wayne standing in front of him. He had only seen him as a CEO or as Batman, not this human-like in-between version.</p><p>"I was hoping you could talk to him," Jack said. "He's going crazy."</p><p>"He's not going crazy," Bruce replied and his defensive tone threw Jack off-guard a little bit. "You wanted him to quit be Robin, he did. Now he's back to all his old hobbies."</p><p>"This isn't a hobby," Jack replied. "This is an obsession."</p><p>"Is he eating?" Bruce asked.</p><p>"What?" Jack asked, confused by what he considered an abrupt change of topic. </p><p>"Is. He eating?" Bruce asked again, slowly and through clenched teeth.</p><p>"Yes."</p><p>"Is he sleeping?"</p><p>"Yes."</p><p>"Attending school?"</p><p>"Yes, but-"</p><p>"And all his schoolwork is done?"</p><p>"Yes, his report card just came. He's got straight A's."</p><p>"Then this isn't an obsession," Bruce said. "Trust me, you'll know when he's actually obsessed with something. You'll be calling me for a sedative, not a talk."</p><p>"But this, this isn't healthy!" Jack exclaimed, stumbling over his own words a little bit. "I don't think I can take much more of this."</p><p>Bruce raised an eyebrow at him, the action giving his features a distinctly mocking look to them. Jack could tell he'd managed to say the wrong thing. </p><p>"Oh, I'm sorry," Bruce replied mockingly. "Is parenting your ex-superhero weighing on you?"</p><p>Jack was gobsmacked. He couldn't even find the words in his own head, much less find the composure to say them. </p><p>"Face it, Jack," Bruce continued. "Three hundred slide PowerPoints are your life now. Welcome to Tim Drake."</p><p>Jack would never know if Bruce would have continued because Tim bounded down the stairs at that moment with his laptop and spare charger, a sure sign that he'd finished another presentation. He stopped at the bottom of the stairs with a jerky movement that almost sent the laptop flying when he saw Bruce.</p><p>"Bruce?" He asked, sounding guilty as if he had just been caught doing something the man had told him not to do. Jack wondered how Bruce commanded that type of tone with just his presence. Tim wouldn't even acknowledge that Jack, his actual father, had any kind of authority over him whatsoever. "What are you doing here?"</p><p>"I was in the neighborhood," Bruce lied. "Thought I would check-in and your Dad invited me to stay for a cup of coffee."</p><p>Jack didn't dare contradict him and Tim beamed.</p><p>"I finished another one," he said. "Want to hear it?"</p><p>"Which one?" Bruce asked. </p><p>"The Amusement Mile murders from 1992," Tim said. Bruce nodded approvingly. </p><p>"That's a weird one," he said. The two of them moved towards the kitchen, talking vaguely about Tim's most recent presentation, clearly saving the best for the actual presentation. </p><p>Bruce stayed for all five-hundred and thirteen slides. This was Tim's longest presentation to date and Bruce asked so many questions Jack was certain the man added another three hours to the whole process. What Jack couldn't decide was if the other man was doing it on purpose.</p><p>He also seemed genuinely interested in the whole thing, something Jack noticed fed into Tim's excitement. The boy was so energized his teeth were nearly chattering. Since they had started this one fairly early in the morning, Jack was able to go to bed by three the next morning. He still managed to lay awake next to Dana for another hour pondering all the things he'd seen as Bruce and Tim interacted through that presentation. </p><p>Tim had an ease with Bruce Wayne that he'd never had with Jack. Indeed, they seemed incredibly close. When Tim tripped over his words, Bruce said them in the correct order, practically reading the boy's mind. His questions were so beyond that Tim actually had to stop and think about a few, finally admitting he didn't know the answer, something that seemed to delight the boy. Bruce challenged Tim in a way Jack hadn't been able to since his son was a toddler. For the first time, Jack wondered if maybe forcing Tim to stop being Robin had been the right call. </p><p>After all, even he could see that Tim saw Bruce in a way that he would never see Jack. </p><p>Worthy.</p>
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